Prometheus Rising
by Fate8
Summary: A story told from the perspective of the bad guy. Prometheus sets his sights on an emerald archer. Reviews always appreciated.


Sometimes it is good to be the bad guy, and I can tell you that it is certainly a lot more fun. I leaned back in my crooked chair, finished making the latest adjustment to my helmet, which sat before me upon a crooked table. I let out a satisfied sigh, and ran my fingers through my prematurely white hair. I reached over and punched up some music, relaxing a bit as the soothing sounds of Korn begin to pour through the sound system. The CD, along with the stereo equipment and nearly everything else in the house was, of course, stolen.

My home is inside the Ghost Zone. Which is why everything is crooked. Nothing builds straight here. Others have called this place the Still Zone, limbo and the Phantom Zone among others. I don't care. It will always be the Ghost Zone to me. I gain access to it by use of the Cosmic Key. It lets me enter the Ghost Zone, but it also opens doors into the real world, among other things. I am utterly alone here, or at least I used to be. 

Not long after I escaped from prison, I returned home to find a raven in my house. How it got there remains a mystery, but the bird is not what it seems. It comes and goes as it pleases, constantly watching me when it is here. I had almost decided to kill it when it began to talk to me. Not with an actual auditory voice, but inside my head. I know what the normal voice in my head sounds like, and this wasn't it. It even cut through the telepathy blockers in my helmet. The bird, which is not a bird, began to offer me advice on how to get more and better results from the alien technology I took from the mythical kingdom of Shamballa hidden under the mountains of Tibet. The results thus far have been striking. I wonder about the raven's true intentions at times, but so far our partnership has been solid. I am not, however, such a fool as to think it will remain a one-sided arraignment forever. 

I still have a little leftover tingle from last night's work. I killed a federal judge, one Francis K. Mulroney and his family at his home in Chicago. The good judge was a bulwark of the justice system. He started out as a prosecutor and worked his way up the judicial ranks, building a reputation for being tough on crime and meting out justice with an iron fist. Mulroney had put together an exploratory committee as a prelude to declaring himself a candidate for Congressional office. We couldn't have that.

Every Sunday night, the judge sat down with his immediate family for dinner. The sheer domesticity of the scene turned my stomach. I stood and watched, cloaked, for weeks until the time was right. It was amazingly simple. I slipped a slow acting neurotoxin into the inevitable pitcher of iced tea. The poison is of alien design and not detectable by human science. It paralyzes the voluntary muscles, while leaving the victim aware and functioning. I have another type, several actually, that consume the mind of the infected, effectively making them nothing more than air-breathing vegetables. But I decided not to use any of those.

As soon as the drug began to take effect, I went and knocked out the hired help. I had no beef with the wage slaves, so get to live out what remains of their worthless lives. I returned to the dining room, only to find that the judge had almost suffocated when he fell face down into his mashed potatoes. I chuckled as I hauled him back up by his hair. I picked him up and carried him into his den, where I tied him upright in a chair, so he would be sure and not miss a thing. I returned to the interrupted dining scene and brought back the judge's family members, one by one. A wife, son, daughter-in-law and two grandchildren. I killed each of them before his eyes, explaining as I did so that all of this regrettable action was due because he had continued to fight the good fight for so long. I briefly considered raping the granddaughter, she was a sweet slice of All-American , but in the end I just broke her neck like the others. And I laughed while I did it. When I was done and the old man was at his lowest nadir, I slipped behind him and cut his throat from ear to ear. I waited until the blood stopped spurting, clicked the Cosmic Key and went home.

It was a good kill, but left me strangely unsatisfied. I have been suffering from diminishing returns with my last few forays. There has been little challenge to them. I believe it is time I resumed my true calling, the annihilation of the champions of justice. 

My parents were gunned down before my eyes when I was a child. They were killed by police, who are just another instrument of justice, after a high speed chase that resulted from a daring daylight bank robbery. My mom and dad took me everywhere with them, and I always got to share in their adventures. I loved them for it. When the end came, they decided to go out in hail of bullets instead of suffering to be caged. I was alone. It was also the day my hair turned white. I learned two things on that fateful afternoon. One was that good times never last. Two, that I was going to dedicate my life to destroying the forces of justice. I traveled around the world seeking knowledge and skills that would help my quest. It wasn't until I stumbled upon Shamballa and its cadre of evil monks that I felt ready to fulfill my dream. It wasn't long before I hatched an idea for my coming out party and everyone would be invited. I was going to destroy the JLA in front of the world's media.

I underestimated the League. I was overconfident, and I can fully admit that. I bit off more than I could chew too early in my career. Being humiliated like that, by Catwoman of all people, was a great learning experience. I had to lick my wounds and think of another approach. Taking on the entire League head-on just was not going to work. I did get to beat the shit out of Batman though, so it wasn't a total loss.

I thought it might be a good idea to gather some allies for a second attempt on the League. I contacted Lex Luthor, and we formed the Injustice Gang. The idea for the name was mine. I really think we would have succeeded if not for the untimely arrival of the Maggedon weapon. It fucked up everything. To top it off, Batman overrode my neural net, and broke my jaw. I have not forgotten.

This time around, I have been more careful, refining my plans and tweaking my equipment. I've found a number of new uses for my unique technology, some of which I can thank the mysterious raven. It is time again to continue my war against the capes, only this time I will not start at the top with the League. I will get to them eventually, but I want to hone my skills against some lesser heroes first. I have no desire to taste defeat a third time. I have been using the Cosmic Key in my spare time to visit Star City.

**PART TWO**

I stepped through a doorway that opened onto a rooftop in Star City. I engaged my cloak before leaving the Ghost Zone so I could remain unseen upon my arrival. The city is a nice enough place, I suppose, if you like post-industrial American urban decay. Personally, I prefer someplace warmer with tropical beaches and babes is bikinis, but I don't plan on being here very long.

This place is the home of several second and third tier heroes, only one of which I care about at the moment, the elder Green Arrow. The archer was once a member of the JLA, and how he has survived this long is beyond me. I guess it helps to have spooky green friends in high places. I actually think that his son, Connor Hawke, would be tougher nut to crack, but Arrow the Younger has not yet reached the stature of his father.

Oliver Queen is just now coming to terms with his "family". Besides his natural son, it includes his other "son", Roy Harper, also known as Arsenal of the newly formed Outsiders. Harper is a former junkie, a bit of information that may come in handy some day. Dinah Lance, the drool-worthy Black Canary, is involved in an on-again-off-again romantic relationship with Queen. It seems to be off at the present time. There is also a teenage girl named Mia Dearden living in Queen's house. I am almost certain there is nothing if a sexual nature between the two, although I wouldn't quite put it past the old dog. If there were something going on, I would have no need to kill Queen. His reputation and some illicit video footage is all that would be needed to ruin him in the court of public opinion. The girl may be the key to getting Queen in a vulnerable position. There are always certain buttons you can push with these heroic types.

Another click of the Key and I am standing outside of Queen's house. It's a nice place, but altogether too straight and orderly for my taste. A light burns in a second story window. The girl's room. My previous reconnaissance indicates that Queen should be out keeping the forces of chaos at bay during this time of night. Scanners in my helmet confirmed that there was only one person in the house. A bolt of adrenaline wormed its way up my spine in anticipation of action, and I shivered slightly.

Queen had a first-rate security system. I expected no less. It was a simple task to find the main power box. I used a different set of scanners in my helmet to trace the underground power lines back to their source. Once that was uncovered, I stuck the Cosmic Key inside and switched the grid off. I entered the house through the front door. I was uncloaked as I padded my way up the stairs, but sound dampeners in my costume kept my approach silent.

I peeked into the girl's room. She was turned away from the door, lying on her stomach, apparently doing homework. Pop music was playing from a nearby stereo. This was almost too easy. I cycled a dart loaded with a short-term neurotoxin into my gauntlet. She would be unable to move for an hour or so, which would be more than enough time. I swung my arm up and fired the dart. It hit dead center in the soft flesh of her right butt cheek. She had time to yelp and turn back toward the door before the toxin took effect.

I walked softly into the room. Terror shone in the girl's eyes, which I thought was a good start. I removed the dart and replaced it inside my gauntlet. I reached over and switched off the stereo. "Kids today," I said. "How can you listen to such bland, soulless, derivative crap? Small wonder your generation is so corrupt. But I'm one to talk, eh?" I sat down beside her on the bed and picked up the textbook lying next to the pillow. "Algebra, huh? What a bore. The study of dusty dry theoretical numbers. I'd rather go shoot someone's dog. And I like dogs mind you." The smalltalk is designed to enhance a victim's fear by keeping them off balance. They don't expect it, and besides, it's fun.

I stretched out on the bed, facing the girl with my head propped up on my elbow. I reached over and undid the first button on her blouse, then the second. I leaned in closer. "I could just fuck you and leave you here. That would hurt him badly, I think." I unfastened a third button and slid my hand inside her top, my fingers tracing the outline of her bra. "Would I be your first," I whispered as I gently squeezed the girl's breast. Tears rolled down her face. I withdrew my hand and sat upright. "Well, while that would be fun, for me anyway, we have other things to do at the moment." I heaved the girl over my shoulder, reached into a compartment in my costume and took out a prepared note. I dropped it on the bed. The note was a study in cliches. Where to find the girl. Come alone. Don't contact anyone. Dire harm will befall your loved one if these direction are not followed to the letter. Yadda, yadda, yadda. The only purpose of the note was to draw Queen to me. And it would. I carried the girl out of the house, cloaked both of us, and proceeded to the next phase of the plan.

I secured the girl in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. She was tied, tightly, to a chair firmly anchored into the concrete floor. I also gagged her for good measure. I knew the approximate time Queen would return home, so all I had to do at this point was wait for the hero to show up for the inevitable rescue. Queen was a stubborn man and full of pride. I wondered if he would indeed come alone, or would he bring help. The only real possibility was Arrow the Younger. Queen would be in a great hurry to save the girl. If Hawke was close and available, Queen would likely bring him into the fray. That would complicate matters. Time would tell, I guess.

I did not have to wait long. Queen appeared right on time. I had placed proximity sensors around the building, which fed video straight into my helmet. Arrow was an old pro, and he knew this was a trap. He circled the building three times, looking over the situation. He could see the girl through the skylight, but that was all. I was cloaked, and off to one side. He removed a panel from the skylight and notched an arrow. Queen wasn't one to use many trick arrows anymore, but this one had a suspicious bulge at the tip. He fired it down and away, where it exploded into white light. The illumination let him see exactly what I wanted him to see. No wired explosives. No hidden mobsters with guns. No tripwires or lasers. Just one girl tied to one chair on a bare floor. Finding no threat, Queen took another arrow and shot into the far wall. A line was attached to the end. Queen slid down using his bow. It required good balance and strength. I thumbed the switch on my energized nightstick, and it came to life without a sound. 

Queen moved cautiously toward the girl, his head swiveling this way and that, looking for any hint of danger. I moved around behind him. He reached the girl, and bent down. "Mia, are you alright," he asked. She nodded her head, but her eyes were wild. Queen started to reach and undo the girl's bonds. "Who did this," he asked.

I de-cloaked right behind him. "I did," I said as I smashed my nightstick into his side. The blow spun him across the floor, and he had to bite down a scream of pain. The nightstick has built-in force amplifiers, so I was guessing Queen suddenly had to deal with broken ribs and some internal bleeding. He did manage to hang on to his bow. Like I said, an old pro. Lying on the floor, he reached back into his quiver for an arrow, and I activated the strobe lights on my helmet. They would disorient his aim, and along with his injury should have been enough to make his shot go astray. I moved as he released the bowstring. I felt the arrow hit my left shoulder. It did not penetrate the armor of my suit. I have martial arts and gymnastic skills hardwired into my nervous system to supplement my natural gifts. I somersaulted through the air and brought the nightstick down on Queen's leg. His knee shattered, and this time he did scream. I stepped on his wrist, and raised the nightstick above my head. I brought it down full onto Queen's chest. There was no scream this time, but blood shot up out of his mouth and splattered the floor. I kicked the bow away out of reach. Queen's breath came out in a raspy wheeze, and his eyes were dulled over with shock. Still, he tried to rise up again. I admired the effort, even as I kicked him in the face.

Something flitted down from above and landed on my shoulder. I turned my head slightly to see my mysterious raven had followed me. Somehow. "Came to see the festivities did you," I asked. "One day you and I are going to have a long talk." Queen began to moan and move a bit. I squatted down next to him. "No Green Lantern to save you this time, Queen." I broke off the arrow sticking out of my shoulder pad. "I really expected more out of you. This was a bit too easy. No challenge." I popped a blade out of my gauntlet, and laid it across his throat. "You should have stayed dead the first time, old man," I said as I drew the dagger deep, severing arteries and cutting his windpipe. I stood and watched him bleed out, a goofy smile plastered on my face. The bird ruffled its feathers to get my attention. "Oh yeah," I said. "Thanks for reminding me."

I pulled an arrow out of Queen's quiver and walked over to pick up his bow. I fitted the arrow, and drew back the bowstring. I swung around toward the girl, and took aim. Her face was wet with tears. "It's nothing personal," I said. "But I can't leave any eye witnesses. Although this will be a little ironic if you think about it." I loosed the arrow. The shaft sank deep into the girl's throat. It didn't take long for her to pass.

I decided to keep the bow. It would make a good addition to my trophy room. I hoped to soon have to build a crooked addition to my house, if things kept going this well. Someday, perhaps, a big 'S' shield would hang there next to a certain bat-eared cowl and cape. The proximity sensors interrupted my reverie. The video feed popped on and showed me that someone was approaching the building. It was Hawke, and he looked to be in haste. "Too little, too late, junior," I said. "Enjoy the name if you can. It's all yours now." I looked once more over the two broken and bloody bodies left in my wake, then I clicked the Cosmic Key, and the raven and I went home.

**THE END**


End file.
